


Hallucinations

by AngelicPretty



Series: The One That I've Kept Closest [1]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicPretty/pseuds/AngelicPretty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slightly OOC angst drabble that takes place towards the beginning of The Doomstar Requiem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallucinations

Fingers fretted in silence, guitar unplugged as usual. The twang of strings echoed through the empty bar room. Skwisgaar stared out at nothing, drunk and high out of his fucking mind, doing the only thing he knew how to do. He concentrated on the speed of his fingers on frets and strings, trying to break his already unbeatable record. There was nothing else to do besides wait until he couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

The rest of the band had retired to their rooms to either puke or pass out. Offdensen hadn’t shown his face for a while, doing who the fuck cares, and there hadn’t been any shows lately because of what happened at the funeral. In fact, he was almost grateful for it because since then, they’d just been out partying, fucking sluts, drinking until they blacked out, taking whatever Pickles handed them. All of that helped with times like this. Times where nothing was happening and the memory came back to him as sharp as the knife that had gone straight through him…

Toki.

He’d watched as Toki’s arm was twisted violently behind his back, Magnus crying out into the foggy air. The glint of metal shone red through the darkness, and Toki’s scream still rang clearly through his mind.

Skwisgaar had seen Toki at his worst; from that dirty, smelly kid right off the street, to taking care of him while he puked up his guts after over-drinking, to that traumatized silent stare he fell into at the mention of his parents. Hell, they’d even cried together over lamps at Ikea… Not that he’d ever bring that up again.

He’d seen him at his worst but even through it all, Toki would always be smiling soon after. That’s how naive he was. Thinking it’d be fun to go drunk driving and shooting guns with a clown… Skwisgaar’s fingers stopped suddenly as he remembered his accidental outburst back then.

"We care about you!"

There had been an awkward silence after that, of course, and he wished that hadn’t slipped. It was just way too gay to say you cared aloud. But keeping it all inside wasn’t helping these days. How could he keep burying it under every drink, every lay, every line, when the image of Toki being stabbed kept replaying behind his eyelids.

He was going to go crazy like this, and still, they did nothing but pretend it never happened. Was Toki even alive anymore? What did they want with him? What were they going to do with him? The mutilated corpses scattered about the funeral came back to him now. If he was alive… death at this point may be a blessing. It had been days, and to say they hadn’t noticed that certain charm was missing around Mordhaus would have been a blatant lie.

Well… He couldn’t speak for the others. They seemed to be doing just fine keeping the party going. Only the press’s constant badgering seemed to bother them, not the fact that Toki could be dead. Maybe they, too, were keeping it inside, but to never talk about it? Nathan and Pickles had seemed so determined the night he was kidnapped, but lost motivation as the dangerous reality dawned on them. Of course, even Skwisgaar himself was afraid. Yeah, he was a god, but he also knew he wasn’t immortal.

Rising to his feet and placing the guitar on the couch, he stumbled to the bar. He’d probably end up siding with whatever Nathan chose. After all, what could he do alone? He’d always wanted to be a one-guitar band so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He let out a sigh as he uncapped the bottle of vodka and slid onto the bar stool, knocking back as much as he could.

"I knows my brothers will come for me."

Skwisgaar jerked his head towards the empty doorway before scanning the room in a haze. A young, dirty Toki stood before him, smiling and clutching his dumb hat to his chest.

"Something tells me this was meant to be." He stretched out a hand.

Without thinking, Skwisgaar, lent forward, reaching towards what he knew, in the back of his mind, was just him tripping balls. He fell off the chair and hit the ground with a loud thud, accidentally biting his tongue in the process. He lay there, body contorted and the taste of metal pooling in his mouth, too numbed by the cocktail of depressants and stimulants to move, and too overcome with his thoughts to care. He felt himself finally clocking out.

He didn’t care about anything anymore. He just wanted that douchebag back. But that needed the work of a god, and he was no god. He was just a coward.


End file.
